Kanan and I layed on my bed this afternoon and watched the ceiling fan go round and round. How simple is that? And yet I couldn’t help but be amazed by how my son marveled the way it spinned. I think I watched him more than I did the ceiling fan. Both of us on our backs, my head turned to my left, smelling my son’s newly washed hair and watching the afternoon light from our skylight reflect off of his blue eyes darting back and forth as he tracked one of the fan’s wings and kicked his legs in excitement. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. And then that further led me to truly grasp that I have created a living, breathing, thinking human being. One who will grow up and experience joy and sadness, epiphanies and confusion, excitement and fear, love and hate. He will learn what it is like to be a man, to build relationships with other people, to have dreams and goals. To know what it is like to achieve at some ambitions and fail at others. Who may grow up to be a teacher or a politician or an artist or God forbid, a drug addict or criminal. He could become anything his experiences may set him up to be. It was then that I prayed to God. I asked him to bless this precious baby. To nurture his growing brain and body and to fill his heart with peace as his innocence slowly matures. I asked him to guide me as a mother to make the right decisions that will influence him and in turn, influence the paths that he will choose to take in his life. Then I kissed my son’s cheek and laughed at his squeel of glee and wrapped my arms around him and told him I loved him. I went through all of this because of one little boy and a ceiling fan.